


The last christmas

by Auriane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 03:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auriane/pseuds/Auriane
Summary: An unexpected encounter in an unexpected place...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! This is my first attempt to translate one of my own stories into english. No, english is not my native language, so I don´t have anybody reading beta for me, please forgive me my mistakes.

Severus Snape did not even flinch when the door to the lab was torn open and two men, wearing the same lab coat as he was wearing, stormed into the room.

With relaxed routine, he put the tissue sample in the prepared Petri dish. Well sealed and labeled, marked as belonging together, he stacked them with the others and put them in the warming cabinet.  
A brief temperature check, then he turned his attention to the arrivals, who were now sitting around a new medical record and had a lively discussion.  
Their behavior seemed to be about an interesting case.

On the other hand ...

If he thought it over, much more likely it was a boring case.  
Mayby one from the (even more interesting!) new Lady doctor who worked only for a few weeks in the hospital.  
So, only interesting for the two lab rats at the front of the table. For him, this topic had died years ago. Literally...

He had left everything behind ... A new name, new country, new life ...

"Hey! Simon, come here, we will not be able to work out that alone! "

Simon Snape.  
That's what they called him here. He had kept the surname because he was inconspicuous enough for a British in the States. However, he had left the Severus behind. On the one hand, because this name, even among American Muggles, was much too obvious and on the other hand, he had somehow symbolically wanted to conclude with his old life.  
The risk of actually being recognized by the name was low, but not impossible.  
So he had played safe.

He became a Simon, having kept his old initials. He had always secretly liked having the same initials as the founder of the Slytherin house. This, actually frightening sentimentality towards another life, he skilfully ignored. He was good at that.   
He was British after all...

With the firm conviction that something incredibly "exciting" awaited him, such as a long list with names for paternity tests, he approached his colleagues only slowly.

Richard and Bob were leafing through the file busily.

"What is it?" He asked softly in the tone that used to crawl under the skin of his students.

Bob just looked at him casually and Richard did not even look up from his hand. The two of them now knew him too long, yet too little of him to be intimidated.

His reputation among the students, the suspicion that he was a Death Eater, and the fact that he was a damn fine, even dangerous wizard, had been quite enough for the little naggers, along with a thriving imagination, to adequately intimidate them.

The two lab technicians knew him only as the boring Englishman, who seemed to have little privacy, only had his job in mind and would prefer to administer coffee intravenously.

Bob read the ambulance report.  
"Patient female, between 60 and 70 years old, unconscious. Identity unclear. Fainted at a bus stop. A passer-by called the rescue service. "

Snape did not move. Circulatory problems were the simplest explanation and not uncommon in view of age.  
But Bob was not done yet.

"Her blood pressure and blood sugar were normal and otherwise the old lady actually seems to be in amazing shape. The paramedics even said that this was the most obvious and they wished to be even more fit at that age ...  
Apart from the fact that she has lost consciousness for unexplained reasons and is now in a hospital bed, "he continued.

Richard tugged at his well-groomed dark beard. A clear sign that he was seriously interested in the patient's problem.

"Even when you're over 70, you do not get knocked out in the middle of the road without reason," he murmured softly.

Snape glanced over Bob's shoulder at the file, but there was not more than the meager data of the paramedics.  
"Anything else? It´s not that much ... "

This time, the red-haired Bob responded, with a strand of his half-length mane falling down his forehead.  
Robert Simmons sometimes reminded Severus of the Weasley gang. Occasionally, even so much, that he wondered if the pure-blooded Weasleys did not have a Muggle branch in the family.

"When Cameron handed me the file, the old lady just regained consciousness, but mumbled quite a lot of nonsense. Since the situation seems to be not life threatening, they let her sleep first. If we get to grips with it, we will be able to finish the tests early.

"Mumbled nonsense ... Alzheimer's? If it is dementing you should also allergies and poisoning test.“

Richard and Bob nodded.

"Yes, House also ordered. Cardiac syncope was, by the examination of the paramedics and Dr. Foreman already almost excluded. Cameron is supposed to make a decent medical history as soon as possible and Dr. Chase has an order to check whether somewhere a sprightly, but senile old lady has gone lost ... "at the last words, the two laboratory technicians grinned amused.

Just as Snape was about to look at the list of required blood tests, the door opened again and Dr. Cameron came in with a slightly embarrassed expression.  
All eyes were on her expectantly, but she just shrugged.  
"She actually seems pretty confused. I had to give her some reassurance because she wanted to get up and leave the hospital. Scolded like a scapegoat about something that sounded like muggles and desperately wanted to know where her belongings are ... "

That Cameron, due to the accent, concluded the patient probably came from Scotland, Severus heard just so, while he already by the word "Muggles" had literally jumped up and left without further comment or explanation the room.

For less than six years he was considered dead in the magical society of the United Kingdoms.  
Four years ago, it had taken him to the States. Into Muggle America. He had no contact with Wizarding Society here, because of his Abstinence from magic, but he knew for sure that non-magicians were called Muggles only in Europe.

A seemingly sprightly 70-year-old Scottish-accented woman, scolding over Muggle, here at the Princeton Plainboro Teaching Hospital?

Minerva.

Of course, this was certainly not the case.

What reason would Prof. Minerva McGonagall, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Magic and Witchcraft, have to wait for a bus, during the school year, mid-week, just before Christmas, in America, just here in Princeton?

Christmas shopping ?! Pretty unlikely ...

In the first shock he had stormed out of the lab, but now in the elevator, on the way to the hospital rooms, the shock lessen now and he began to think rational again.  
The likelihood that Minerva McGonagall had been brought in here seemed to him to be less and less, as he considered it more closely. Actually, the idea was even laughable!

Though...

An uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach and did not want to go away anymore.

The elevator door opened and he entered the floor with the sickrooms. Since she is a patient of Dr. House, she would be in one of the two rooms available to the diagnostician.

He looked around quickly. He rarely came to this part of the hospital. His workplace was the lab, and since he did not really have any social contacts, he was also a rather rare guest in the break and social rooms.

Slowly he walked down the hall. Past the office of House, to the first of the two sickrooms. Even from a distance it was obvious that this room was not occupied.  
He stopped for a moment, wondering if the vague suspicion was not just a figment of the imagination.  
Already he wanted to turn away and let the matter be good, but the uneasy feeling does not let go.  
So he continued on his way.  
However, he did not have to go far. Already at the next room he found what he was looking for.

The sight that presented himself, was not what he´d expected.  
Through the fissures of the slat curtain, the patient was quite recognizable, but he still almost did not recognize her.

Not that she looked particularly ill. No, with a relatively healthy complexion on her face and deep, regular breaths, she slept, exhausted from ranting, but chiefly because of the tranquilizer that her dr. Cameron had missed.

He stood motionless in front of the glass and stared at the picture that showed itself to him.

She looked small, dainty, almost fragile. The hair, spread out openly on the pillow, was still quite dark, but slowly the gray seemed to gain the upper hand.  
The relaxed facial features were permeated with deep wrinkles.

In a heated debate he'd once compared her to a shriveled apple ... At the memory, the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement and wistfulness.

She was just a shadow of the woman she had once been.  
Lost and helpless, she looked. Not like the staunch witch that had sovereignty over hordes of teenagers and more than once verbally defied him.

Deep in thought he leaned against the frame of the window. How long, he could not say afterwards. But at some point, he had not noticed that she had woken up, he felt her calm eyes on himself.

She looked directly at him.  
No emotion in her face told, if she had recognized him or not.  
He wrestled with deciding whether he should turn away, but the decision was taken from him when he realized after a few moments that her eyes were stinging and relentless. It was clear to him now that she knew exactly who was standing in front of her room. However, she did not seem to be too surprised to see him here, or that he was alive at all.

With a short but clear head movement she finally asked him to come in.

Slowly and hesitantly he pushed away from the wall and quietly entered the room.  
Carefully, he closed the door behind him. Incidentally, he drew slat curtains, so that you couldn´t see anything from the hospital corridor.  
He did not really know what to expect. Neither of them did not say a word of greeting to each other, but they did not take their eyes off each other. After he had pulled a chair by her bed and sat down, he still started to speak first.

"What, in Merlin's name, takes you to an American Muggle hospital?"

At first, she just kept quiet. When she finally started to speak, he found that her voice had changed the least.  
A little hoarse though, the tone was pretty much the way he remembered it.

"That's what you're asking me, is not it?" She finally snorted, trying to straighten herself up in bed, which she did not immediately succeed.  
She did not seem to expect any help from him and he would not have offered it. No matter how tired and exhausted Minerva McGonagall was, her pride and Scottish stubbornness alone would help her get up.

However, it took unexpected and frighteningly long.

When she was finally satisfied with her position, her piercing gaze fell on him again.  
"Now? Perhaps you have something to tell me, Severus Snape? "  
Although he had asked his question first, he realized that in the circumstances, it was probably his turn to answer first.

But that did not mean that he liked it. So, the words came a little harsh and quite defensive, which irritated him a bit.

"What do you expect me now that I say? Yes, I survived surprisingly the whole drama. The how, is a long story that you do not really want to hear, believe me. All I'm saying is that Dumbledore and I, did not have much in common except that we were both loved to be prepared for all eventualities..."

"Looks like ..." she replied dryly, then fell silent again.

Surprisingly, she did not seem to want to pursue the topic any further.

"Why are you lying in this hospital room, Minerva? Why are you in America? "

The questions hung expectantly in the air.

Her sight had frightened him more than he wanted to admit. She had aged much more than the 6 years that had actually passed.

The relationship they had with each other had never been easy to define. At least not from the time he started teaching at Hogwarts.

They had not been friends or enemies to each other. Due to the house rivalries, there were of course friction and one or the other dispute. However, this had never gone to the personal level. By working in the Order, they knew the abilities of the other pretty well and also respected it appropriately.

They were most likely something like a reliable constant to each other. You knew what you had and what was to expected.  
Not more, not less.

At least he had always thought so. 

But now that he had her back after a rather long time, he had to admit, at least to himself, that he had missed her very much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you find errors, please report! : D

Part 2

 

"Evade Magicae" she broke through his thoughts.

Snape frowned. The violent, rapid withdrawal of all magic was almost always deadly.

"How...?"

I had Doyle and McNair against me in the great hall, the curses just flew around my ears and I took cover, not realizing that a small foothold of the curse had caught me, in that moment I´ve been spared the full effect, but I will not escape this death. The first serious symptoms appeared after seven months.

Severus swallowed, but said nothing, because she seemed to want to say more.

"That's why you still have an undisturbed life here and I did not drag you home for a long time ..."

All of a sudden old Minerva was back. With her mischievous, almost spiteful smile and a sparkle in her eyes that suited the one Dumbledore had in every way.

The former Potions master raised an eyebrow, a gesture that only made McGonagall's grin wider.

"You couldn´t fool me. I have no idea how you did it and I do not care, but I realized very quickly that you did not really die in the Boathouse, the fact that your body was not found was proof enough to me. "

"Did you talk to someone about it?" slight concern resonated in his voice.

"Not directly, Severus, don´t worry. With the help of Harry Potter and the headmistress, I've publicly portrayed your true loyalties - there are no official arrest warrants or unofficial charges against you.

The others did that to completely cleanse your name, the name of a war hero. I´ve done it that you can return to the wizarding world, when the time and you is ready for it. "

It took a moment for Snape to realize that Minerva had spoken of a Headmistress. Who, if not her ...? He was about to ask that question when she cut him off.

“I was searching for you Alone, nobody knew about it and I used some of the more exotic tracking spells and things went awry, at least that's what I thought at first. Poppy couldn´t figure it out and sent me to St. Mungos, where they discovered the thing about the Evade Magicae.

Of course, that changed my priorities for the time being. Besides, I knew I would not be able to convince you to come back anyway. So I let it alone for that time. I resigned my duty as headmistress just after half a year and pretty soon after that, my wand. My magic had become unreliable and dangerous ... " Her last words came a little wistfully.

Now she was here. In this condition.

Did she really just want to bring him home, or was there another reason? Snape's suspicious nature did not entirely rule that out.

Suddenly a suspicion rose in him.

Of course she would come to him with it ...

The thought terrified him deeply, and after anger first flared up, it actually made him sad too.

But if she really asked him, he would probably do it.

Just as he had fulfilled Albus' wish for it.

Maybe this was his true destiny ... Not spy, or warrior, but ...

"Minerva, I don´t have a wand with me, but ..."

The just yet melancholy but friendly mine in the face of the old witch looks confused. Did not know what he meant at first. The confusion quickly gave away to an indignant expression as she finally realized what he was talking about, and barked angrily at him:

"Never, Severus Snape, I would crave that of you! That Albus demanded it of you was, soberly and pragmatically, a necessity and a really good opportunity for you to rise in the favor of Riddle, but morally, it was highly doubtful, especially to you. I would never ever, even just get the idea to ask you for it! " After this somewhat violent outburst, she became calmer again.

"I'm fine within the circumstances, I'm not in pain and I'm used to the absence of my magic, there are worse ways to die ..."

Snape did not know what to say, so he remained silent. He was relieved. Her death was inevitable, as it was for everyone, but at least he wouldn´t be him who ended her life. He was actually very, very relieved ... and grateful.

After a short, embarrassed silence, the question about the new school administration came up to him again.

"Then Pomona is now headmistress, I didn´t think you could drag her out of her greenhouses." Clumsily he tried to change the subject and lighten the mood. Something in which he did not have much practice.

"Pomona Sprout is not teaching anymore, Severus, a lot has happened in the six years of your absence ..."

That brought him out of concept. She had spoken of a headmistress. Clearly feminine. Traditionally, the office of the headmaster went to one of the house teachers. Rolanda (and Trewlaney anyway), he could therefore exclude.

A stranger was Headmistress of Hogwarts?

When he was struck by a nostalgia of homesickness in his self-imposed exile, the idea of Minerva as headmistress, his colleagues in their proper places, Potter annoying, but alive, had given him some consolation and peace.

But the more Minerva told, the more he realized that a lot of change not only had happened to him since the end of the war.

His confusion had to be seen in his face and Minerva seemed to find that amusing.

The impression intensified when she asked him: "Do you really want to know, Severus? Well, I guess it's only fair if I tell you what to expect, just in case you decide to return ..."

Now Snape became suspicious again. Why only this mischievous grin?

"Spit it…" he whispered.

It was clear from the look on her face, that his former colleague enjoyed torturing him.

"For the first time after the war, I was both a house teacher, a teacher of transfiguration, and headmistress, but when the school system returned to normal, we needed Gryffindor to find a new house teacher, and at the same time Pomona ended her service. She retired to Ireland to her sister, who had suffered heavy losses in the war and Pomona wanted to assist the poor woman and support her to the best of her ability. "

Snape rolled his eyes. She probably intended to drive him crazy with the details. He began to suspect that he would not like what he would hear.

"Minerva, forget the details ... I want names!"

"Well, spoilsport ... Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Was she kidding? Her eyes were locked at his and she looked frim and serious. But that was no reason to assume that she might not have fooled him, only just to see how he reacted.

But after a few moments, when she still showed no emotion, he came to the conviction that it was indeed true.

To the surprise of the former Transfiguration teacher, his behavior remained unexpectedly calm and relaxed, almost bored.

"Indeed...?"

"Indeed."

Now he sighed.

"You seriously believe, after I know that Mr. Longbottom and Miss Granger are putting their legs under the teachers' table at Hogwarts, that I'm going to go back?"

Minerva chuckled in amusement. He took it more calmly as she thought. Yes, he seemed to have changed some in the past six years.

On a closer look you even saw it. Not so emaciated and pale. Not so stressed anymore. Maybe this little break was not such a stupid idea as she had initially thought.

"Before you make your decision dependent on it, think about exactly what it means: Hermione Granger as headmistress, young yet older than the sum of her years, ambitious, but with the heart in the right place, with a talent for organization and a healthy sense of genius that makes many experienced teacher jealous and a member of the Golden Trio, that can defy the ministry in ways that others can´t. "

Snape did not respond to her arguments. Neither positive nor negative.

"Mr. Longbottom may not have been a special student in your potions class, but he has generally done very well and herbalism has always a interest to him, the only thing that was a pity, was that he couldn´t take over the post of head of house for Hufflepuff. On the other hand, it was good again when Miss Granger took over the management of the school.

Even she with her organizing stale, had to admit that she couldn´t take four positions. She teaches the lower three classes of potions and the elective Muggle studies. So Mr. Longbottom became head of Gryffindor. My successor as a transfiguration teacher is Megan Jones. She is now head of management of Hufflepuff. "

Snape needed a moment to process everything.

Nothing is the same anymore, like it was before.

It was not until McGonagall responded that he realized he had spoken out loud.

"No, much is not what it used to be, but that's not always a bad thing, do not you think?"

He was just about answer, when the door to the room opened and the team of Dr. House came in.

"Oh, we did not think ... Excuse me, we did not expect you ... to have a visit."

Dr. Cameron seemed surprised to find the grim lab technician here.

"Do you know the patient, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes, we know each other." He got up and looked at the old witch in bed. Her open hair still irritated him more than anything else, making her look less severe but also more vulnerable. Especially as she looked at him now, as though she expected that now he would disappear without further comment.

It surprised him most himself when he grabbed her hand, lightly squeezed it, and reassured her, "I'll come back later, now let the doctors do their work."

To mask the softness of the gesture, he added, instructively: "Behave yourself and be nice and good ... we'll see you later."

Snorting but with some relief in view, she gave his forearm a slight slap.

"Well, then get out of here ..." she was slowing down not to call him by his name, she had no idea how he was called here.

With a nod to the waiting doctors, he left the room.

Distracted by the events, he looked for a place to think and so, at some point he found himself in his car in the garage below the clinic.

He had to think. She had given him more than enough material for it.

For several minutes, however, he thought of next to nothing, save the image she had offered before she discovered him.

She did not deserve such an end. But who got a deserved end?

Justice is an invention of man. It doesn’t exist. At least not as humans it would like.

In the best, but also in the worst case, justice lies in the eye of the beholder.

At some point his eyes fell on the clock in the dashboard of his car.

Half past eleven.

A walk in the park to think, seemed appropriate. He had lunch anyway.

As he sauntered through the bare park in the astonishingly warm midday sun, he thought for the first time of the problem that Dr. House here had a patient whose illness even the capable diagnostician would not recognize. She would die despite all efforts.

If there was no speedy recovery so he could send her back to Britain, it would happen here in America. With him, in this hospital.

Why had she come to him when it was so bad?

Did not she want to die at home, in familiar surroundings, with her family?

He stopped abruptly.

Did Minerva have a family? He thought he remembered that she once spoke of parents who died early. From a husband or even children of her own, he had never heard anything. To be honest, he did not really care then.

Now, it was something that bothered him. Did someone have to be contacted?

He resumed his thoughtful gait.

He would simply ask her. Besides, he would have to fake a few lab results, so that the muggles would not gave him any further problems and wouldn´t complicate matters unnecessarily.

With these thoughts he set off again on the way back.

When he got off the elevator on the station, he was still busy thinking with what he could fool the doctors, so that it was at least plausible on the paper and they would either dismiss the woman to die or at least try no more treatments and would not interfere more.

He was startled out of his thoughts, when he realized that there was a lot of activity in her room and that there was an alarming urgency.

Accelerating his pace, he was immediately slowed down by a nurse. She had previously seen him coming out of the room and therefore informed him without hesitation about the state of things.

"You can´t go in. She's just being reanimated. Acute heart plague, I'm sorry, wait here." She pushed him gently but firmly into one of the chairs in the waiting area.

End part 2


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m sorry about beeing late...

It had not kept him there for a long time.

As soon as it became apparent that the efforts of the doctors were successful, he left.

Anyway, after this incident, she would not be in the condition to chat with him about old times.

There were several problems to clarified. First, he had to bludgeon on the Muggle doctors as soon as possible, an explanation that was at least nearly plausible, and on the other hand ... he wanted to say goodbye.

As good as his entire adult life, more or less regularly people had died violently in his presence. All too often, it had been acquaintances whose death he had not been able to prevent, or worse, they were pawns in Dumbledore and Voldemort's morbid play: Who's the cleverest?

Occasionally, the dead had been indifferent to him, however shameful the fact. But most of the time he was somehow connected to them, if not always directly.

His first (and most likely only) love, acquaintances, parents of students, even relatives or friends.

Whether Albus Dumbledore really was a friend, he wasn´t sure of that. Both might have wanted it, but ...

Whether friend or not, Albus was definitely close enough, to be more than mildly affected by his impending death.

When the old man asked him to kill him, albeit for a logical, plausible and clever move, the anger had been almost immeasurable.

But he had given in. The good of many weighed more heavily than the well-being of an individual.

Taking farewell…

Of course, as a witch, Minerva is far too young to die, yet he found it appropriate that she is the one to whom he could reasonably say goodbye.

These thoughts accompanied him to the lab. Contrary to his fears, no one except that one nurse had seen him in the hospital room. When he entered the lab, everyone looked at him, but no one commented on his abrupt disappearance.

Bob just handed him a list without a word.

A list of tests that were carried out on Minerva for diagnostic purposes, of course. Thus, he had a small selection of which test he would fake to play the doctors.

Sighing, he set to work.

After finishing work in the lab in the evening, he wanted to go back to McGonagall.

Outside the visiting hours it was much quieter in the hallways of the hospital, but also more likely that he would be noticed by someone.

Of course, without the help of spells, it was not so easy to get anywhere unseen, but he also knew some non-magic tricks.

So he finally slipped quietly into the witch's room, which was still sleeping.

Sitting down in his chair, he decided to let her sleep first. He had time. Nobody in his apartment was waiting for him, except a piece of old bread.

The sight of it no longer scared him too much, although her condition had naturally deteriorated.

From the hustle and bustle at noon, her hair was a bit confused, although you could tell that someone had tried to fix it. Her face was pale, her lips slightly bluish.

As he looked at her, he mentally went through the things he wanted to ask.

The top priority was if he should notify someone. He wasn´t comfortable with that thought, but he would find a way ...

At some point, when the sun began to sink, the former director of the best magician schools in Europe stirred up in her sickbed.

"There you are again ..." she rasped hoarsely, a sip of water seemed appropriate.

Without thinking about it, Snape poured her a glass and helped her moisten her mouth.

She looked at him intensely, but made no comment.  
"Minerva, do I have to notify someone? Is there a family to inform?" he asked without further ado.

As it took a long moment to answer, he thought she had not understood him and wanted to repeat his question, but she came before him.

"No, there's nobody to be notified, Severus." The words came softly, almost sadly.

He had not expected that. Although he might not have thought of a husband or children, he had always assumed that she had some kind of family. Scots boasted for their widely ramified families, their clans.

"Nobody? No siblings, cousins, nephews or anything else? "He hooked in disbelief, though he could not think of a reason to hide the truth from him.

At first, she shook her head slowly, then said, "There is no one left. Only distant relatives with whom I had never had contact and which therefore I regard as a stranger. And Gaius ... Gaius is dead longer than you alive, Severus. "

Again the words came softly, but then suddenly a jolt seemed to pass through her and she looked at him with shining eyes.

"Pity you did not know my husband, Severus. That would have been interesting encounters ... Either you would have verbally shredded each other, or you would have conspired against Albus together... I guess the latter ... "

Snape looked at her for an explanation.

"Gaius McGonagall was like you, in more than one way. A stubborn grouch with a snappy sense of humor, he would burrow himself most of the time into his work, but when it mattered he had his heart in the right place and you could depend on him."

Snape saw her eyes soften as she thought of her dead husband. She seemed to like him very much. Among the marriages in her generation, arranged by the parents, rather rare.

Minerva seemed to have guessed his thoughts.

"Yes, my Dad arranged this marriage, but he knew what he was doing. This may shock you, but Gaius was one of my masters in my education in Transfiguration. Almost 20 years older than me. He was as old as you are now, at our wedding. We knew each other for several years and already had one or another dispute behind us. You know my temper and just like you, Gaius enjoyed irritating me way to much."   
Here she laughed briefly.

"Once, my father witnessed one of our disagreements and he realized what was to do."

If her face had just shone with the memories, the gleam faded again and she looked at her hands that lay in her lap and held each other.

"Our marriage was short and children were not an issue, we thought we had time ... Gaius worked at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. During a house search, the suspect released toxic fumes to escape and Gaius had been the first to come through the door. So, after two happy years of marriage, I was a widow ... "Here her voice disappeared and her hands kneaded in her lap.

Snape sat silently in his chair and did not know what to do. He had to admit that he was a bit overwhelmed with the situation. At least emotionally. The realization that really good people could be alone at the last end was, of course, logical in hindsight, but it hit him quite unprepared.

She had come to him.  
This realization weighed much harder.

Now there was something in him, that he thought he had long lost and withered under his grudges and sarcasm. He could not name it very clearly. He leaned forward slowly and reached for her hands. Old and fragile, but smooth they lay in his and he stroked slowly with both thumbs over the backs of her hands.

Although she had been in control until just now, despite all her efforts, her eyes became wet.

She tried resolutely to pull together, which she partially succeeded. Her eyes were wet, but the tears did not flow.

"Thank you, Severus," her voice slightly shaky, she looked down at her hands he still held.

"I have to thank you Minerva. For everything."

For a while, they just looked down at their hands and did not seem to want to speak any further.

At some point, overcoming the grief, McGonagall began to speak again in a firmer voice.

"It will not take much longer. The thrusts are getting faster and heavier. I guess tonight, but tomorrow at the latest it will be done. I know it's asking a lot, but ... would you ..." after all that had already been said, she seemed to be having trouble expressing the request.

Once again, Snape thought he knew what she wanted and he was sure, that this time he was not wrong.

"I will stay here, Minerva. I stay with you. Until the end. I promise you that." The words almost stuck in his throat Emotionality had never been his strength, but he was not immune, he swallowed hard and tried to control himself.

"Thank you." She actually seemed relieved, "As long as I'm fine enough, I want to say something else, Severus."

Waiting, he looked at her.

"Please think about going back home. There are actually others besides me who miss you. Get your life back. You're still young ... There are still so many options for you ... "

Expectantly, she looked at him.

"I can´t promise you, that I will go back, but I give you my word, that I will seriously think about it."

"That's fine. More than I had dared to hope. "

Neither of them seemed to have something else to say. After a while McGonagall had fallen asleep again and Snape let go of her hands to settle in the chair.

He woke up from the restless movements in the sick witch's bed. After his lab report in the evening, the devices in the room had been removed. It was not a patient room but a dying room. The curtains closed promised a degree of privacy, but also seclusion.

If he were not sitting here, she would be all alone. A fact that was still hard to accept for him. The night nurse controlled regularly but impersonally, had thrown him only a surprised look the first time.

He checked Minerva's pulse on her wrist. Her heart seemed to flutter, apparently she had fallen from sleep to unconsciousness. Maybe a little grace ...

Her hands began to shake and Severus grabbed both, squeezing lightly.

The time had come.  
"I'm here, I'm not leaving ... I promised ..." he barely noticed that he was crying.

One last tremble went through the old body, then everything was quiet. No fibrillation, no breathing, no more trembling of the hands.

He continued to hold her hands full of age spots, stroking her.

When he realized how her skin become cool, he let go of her hands. But he stayed in his chair. He kept watch for the rest of the night, thinking and pondering.

He seemed to have overslept the night nurse's last lap, the next thing he realized was a presence at the door.

Dr. House personally stood there and did not seem to know exactly what to expect from the sight of him.

The two men did not know each other personally just the reputation of each other and so the exchange was quite simple and short.

"You knew her?"

"Yes, an old friend."

With this clarification, Severus Snape rose from his chair, glanced again at Minerva, and then turned to the diagnostician.

House was just waiting there.

Snape put the chair back against the wall where he had found him and was going to leave the room.

He paused in front of House, alternately looking back and forth between doctor and bed.

Then he whispered, "I quit. Initiate a cremation. I will bring her home. "

THE END


End file.
